


Disastrous Attraction

by valafatoren



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F, Pre-Book 1: Lady Midnight, a rosastairs rewrite basically, rosastairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 06:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valafatoren/pseuds/valafatoren
Summary: It's the summer before and Emma's just met the new shadowhunter staying with them. And well, she might just be falling in love a little. One thing's for sure - the summer's going to be interesting.





	Disastrous Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this years ago and only found it again now but i might continue it?? maybe?? we'll see anyway lol emma's the biggest disaster bi ever enjoy

_Fuck,_ Emma was gay. She leaned casually against the door and watched the new Shadowhunter, who was currently waving cheerfully as she approached the institute. An easy smile slipped onto Emma’s face, and she jumped down the couple of stairs to greet her, a bounce in her step.

The other girl opened her mouth to introduce herself, but was surprised into silence as Emma pulled her into a big hug, squeezing tightly in welcome. Once Emma pulled back, she was pleased to find that her guest was smiling back at her cheerily, a warm twinkle in her eyes.

“Well,” she said, laughing, “that was the best welcome I could hope for. You must be Emma, it’s so nice to meet you finally. I’m Cristina Rosales.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you,” Emma enthused, “it’s going to be great having you here.”

She took a step back, taking her first clear look at the older girl. So _this_ was the Shadowhunter they would be hosting for the next year: Cristina Rosales, from the Mexico Institute. Eighteen years old and absolutely drop dead stunning. Warm brown eyes, crinkled with laughter, long black hair in a bun, brown skin, all put together in a casual white dress, similar to Emma’s own style.

“Oh, we have got to get you to the vintage stores,” Emma found herself saying, “you’ll love some of the dresses they’ve got.”

“I’d love that,” Cristina said earnestly, “But first, do you think we could go inside? I’ll admit, I haven’t had a coffee today yet, so you might not find me the most awake of companions.”

Emma laughed freely, and grabbed one of Cristina’s bags, “Sure, come on in.” She hauled the bag above her shoulder, and turned around to walk back into the institute, but not before she caught Cristina – maybe? – peeking at her arm muscles. Emma’s cheeks pinked at the thought as she admitted to herself that alright, she did want to show off a little, sure, if an attractive girl had looked at her in a certain way, it would be far from the worst thing in the world. As soon as these thoughts came into her head, she shook them back out again. She couldn’t afford to get distracted, not when her parents’ murderer was still out there.

Emma set the bag down once they reached the kitchen, and quickly set about making a cup of coffee, ushering Cristina to take a seat whilst making small talk about her journey.

“Oh _, thank you_ ,” Cristina moaned into her cup, once she received the coffee. She took a deep inhalation, and gifted Emma a stunning smile, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“Anything for you,” Emma offered, and flashed a smile and a wink as she flopped onto the counter. For one brief mortifying moment, Emma wished a horde of demons would come kidnap her until Cristina giggled and she suddenly wished that demons didn’t exist so she could listen to that sound on repeat forever.

“Well now I know why they call you the best Shadowhunter,” Cristina declared, “Saving lives whilst being funny? Look, I’m swooning.”

Emma tossed her head back with laughter, then shot Cristina a quick grin, “flattery will get you everywhere with me.”

“Good to know,” Cristina said, and suddenly Emma was very aware of her pink cheeks and Cristina’s soft gaze. A shiver went through her, though not an unpleasant one, and Emma had the strange sensation of falling. She peeked up at Cristina, and for the brief moment that their eyes met, a giddy rush swept through her body and Emma quickly clamped down on that emotion. _Oh, fuck,_ she knew that feeling, and if it was what she suspected, she was in much bigger trouble than she realised.

Jolting up straight, Emma broke out of the trance and proclaimed “I am so glad you’re here, Tina – is it alright if I call you that? - we are going to have so much fun this summer.”

Cristina seemed to straighten as well, composing herself, and the moment passed, though the same electric tingle down Emma’s spine still remained.

“That’s more than fine,” Cristina agreed, seeming pleased. She smiled again, “And yes, we are. I can already tell that we’re going to be close.”

Emma’s breath caught at that final word, and came out in a huge rush.

“That’s it,” she said, slamming her hands down, “You’re officially the quickest person to reach my die list.”

“Die list?” Cristina seemed amused.

“Clearly the list of people I would die for,” Emma explained, in a _duh_ tone.

“But no,” Cristina protested, pouting, “that would mean you’d have to leave me.”

“That would be tragic, our parting,” Emma mused, “I can already hear the ballads played in my honour. After all, I would be depriving the rest of the world of this excellence. I believe even the demons would shed a tear.”

“A tear?” Cristina said, “They’d be balling, as would I.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that,” Emma said, “You crying, I mean, not the demons. Making them cry is a normal Wednesday for me.”

“Only on Wednesdays?” Cristina offered.

“I am nothing if not merciful,” Emma stated seriously, “It gives them a break after decapitation Tuesday.”

“Ah,” Cristina nodded solemnly, “I can’t wait to get to know more about this fascinating routine of yours.”

“Me?” Emma waved a flippant hand in the air, and grinned cheekily at Cristina, “I’m more interested in you.”

“Well,” Cristina flushed, “what’s there to know?”

“Literally everything,” Emma said, “But let’s start off with the basics. Preferred weapon?”

“How about I do more than say?” Cristina suggested, “Care for a demonstration?”

“Gladly,” Emma declared, and held out her hand, “to the training rooms we go.” Cristina took her offered hand, and Emma had to quickly look away to hide the heat in her cheeks. She lead Cristina out of the kitchen, spinning her around in a circle to the music of Cristina’s laughter, feeling giddily happy herself. The butterflies started again, and suddenly Emma dropped Cristina’s hand as if it were burning her.

“Race you,” she said, instead of answering the question in Cristina’s eyes, and tore off. With a laugh, Cristina raced after her, elegantly leaping up the stairs. Emma pounded along the hallway, a thousand thoughts tearing around in her head, all coming to one simply conclusion, that she was hopelessly, ridiculously drawn to Cristina and she didn’t know what to do about it. Emma skidded to a halt in front of the weapons room, and a few seconds later Cristina appeared, a few strands of her hair falling out of her bun, which was probably the most dishevelled she ever appeared. Emma resisted the urge to tuck one of them behind her ears, then relented and did so anyway. Fuck self control. She pretended not to notice how hard her heart was beating and told herself it was from the sprint.

Cristina flushed, looking down at the floor, before shyly smiling at Emma, “I guess that means you won. Though I think I do get bonus points for unfamiliar terrain.”

“All the bonus points,” Emma agreed, and opened the door, gesturing for Cristina to go in. She entered in after her and snatched Cortana up from where she had left it, twirling it casually around in her hand.

“Alright,” she said, nodding at the three dummies across the room, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

Cristina gave a little grin at the challenge, and out of her hands flew three balisongs, each thudding into a respective manikin. One to the head, one to the heart, and one to the groin. Emma whistled appreciatively. It was obvious Cristina had kept them in the sheaths on her thighs, but she hadn’t even noticed her pull them out.

“Well?” Cristina’s eyes crinkled with my laughter as she tilted her head to one side, questioning Emma.

“Was my whistle not enough?” Emma interjected, “Do you need me to do it again? Because, you are _good,_ girl.”

Cristina laughed, a beautiful tinkling sound, “Now I’m interested in seeing the famed Cortana at work with her mistress.”

“I’m the blade’s mistress?” Emma pouted, then shrugged in acquiescence, “yeah, you’re probably right about that.”

Cristina giggled and Emma’s stomach fluttered again. Okay, so she had a new life goal it seemed: to do everything she could to make sure Cristina kept laughing. To make sure a smile was always on those beautiful lips, those damnably kissable l-

“What are you looking me like that for?” Cristina said softly, and Emma swore she could see a golden glow emanating off her body.

“Oh, it’s, uh, nothing,” Emma stammered out, cursing her mind for drifting off. “Train with me?”

“As if you need to ask,” Cristina replied, and they fell instantly into an easy rhythm together, weaving around each other to the soft beat of their steps. It was so easy, so effortless, this partnership, and Emma almost let herself muse if she and Cristina had known each other in previous lives. It was as if their bodies just knew how the other would respond, as if this was a swirling dance they had danced with each other a million times before. It was just like a dance, she realised, and in that moment, her eyes met Cristina’s and both their breaths seemed to halt as they just stared at each other.

_Oh, fuck,_ if this was going to continue to happen, it would be a wonder if she ever got anything done in the future, being too busy staring off into the distance like a lovesick fool. She knew she should snap out of it, should focus, but she didn’t want to. She just wanted to stay in this moment, gazing into Cristina’s eyes, the tension between them almost palpable.

“Hello there,” Cristina breathed eventually, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Hello yourself,” Emma breathed back. They were both hesitant, Emma thought. Cristina seemed to be waiting for something – but waiting for what?

But Emma was frozen in place, and after a few seconds longer, Cristina pulled back, hands smoothing her hair down. Was that a tinge of disappointment in her eyes?

Emma shook her head and groaned, letting her body slump to the floor. She was an absolute, fucking, -

“Come on,” said a soft voice. Cristina was standing above her, one hand outstretched. Emma grabbed onto it, letting Cristina haul her up. Her muscles protested, and she rolled her head in a circle.

“I don’t know about you,” she said to Cristina, offering a warm smile, “But I am in need of a shower.”

“Oh yes,” Cristina agreed, “Show me to my rooms?” They walked to Cristina’s rooms companionably, Emma leading a conversation about the Los Angeles Institute, pointing out certain features on the wall and different rooms as they passed by them. Cristina, bless her, was actually interested in all of it, and spoke a little about the differences and similarities between here and Mexico Institute.

They had to go past the kitchen to grab her bags, and once they reached the room, Emma briskly pointed out a few things, including the ensuite bathroom.

“Thank you,” Cristina murmured, as she grabbed a few items out of her bag, and headed towards the bathroom. She paused at the doorway, head tilting to one side as she examined Emma, leaning against the wall.

Her eyes sparkled and she began to open her mouth to say something when Emma, cheeks burning hot, interrupted, backing out the doorway, “Oh sorry, I’ll uh, I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice shower!”

She darted out of the room mortified as Cristina shook her head in amusement and shut the bathroom door. Once Emma was outside, she fell against the wall, hitting her forehead. She hit it again, groaning. She was a complete fucking mess, but even as she kept bumping her head against the wall, a rueful smile crept onto her lips. Well, at least the summer would be interesting.

 


End file.
